#and you can BET YOUR ASS THAT I DID

[salstray]

GOD THAT POST ABOUT DESTINY 2

it reminded me how much i loved that game. how much i loved the forsaken dlc.

it also remidned me that i will STILL CRY ACTUAL TEARS if I think about Cayde-6 for too long

[irenespring]

Today I would like to shout out that one random Twitter person who made up that JD Vance bragged about fucking a couch.

Imagine making a random shitpost and less than two months later your joke is being used by a major party nominee for Vice President on live television at his introduction rally, earning him thunderous applause.

That poster must be having quite the experience.

[ohitslen]

Pretty boy beard agenda

Idk what this is supposed to be but have this low effort and quality thing

[tinypi]

[teawithghosts]

i often think about Vander returning to an empty Last Drop after the massacre in the bridge. After everything that they've lost he has to return to that empty bar. Overturned chairs and empty bottles all that remain of the hope they had for a fighting chance. So many regular faces died on that bridge. Dart and pool tournaments started that will never be finished.

And Vander is the only one left to clean up the mess. To put the bar back in working order to pick up the broken pieces and somehow get the bar up and running again. Get everything up and running again and this time he's alone. What the fuck else is he gonna do?

[theladyofbloodshed]

Featuring Nesta Archeron as the beautiful, but witchy leading lady and Eris Vanserra as the tall, quirky investigator.

Chapter 1 of 6

In the bosom of a spacious cove, which indented the eastern shore of the Hudson, lay a small market-town or rural port, which by some is called Greensburgh, but it is more generally and properly known by the name of Tarry Town. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there was a little valley, or rather lap of land, amongst high hills. It was one of the quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glided through it, with just a murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasional whistle of a quail, or tapping of a woodpecker, was almost the only sounds that ever broke in upon the uniform tranquillity.

Along one side of the valley was a grove of tall walnut-trees. If one ever wished for a retreat, to steal from the world and its distractions or to dream quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, no land was more promising than the little value. From its listless repose and the peculiar nature of its inhabitants, the sequestered glen was long known by the name of Sleepy Hollow.

A drowsy, dreamy influence seemed to hang over the land and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say the land was bewitched by an ancient settler. The place held a spell over the minds of the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie.

Others held the view that the land was cursed.

It was on the first Monday of the tenth month that Eris Crane was called upon to attend matters in Sleepy Hollow from the constabulary department of New York City. Three murders, most vile, had occurred. A father, a son, and a widow, all murdered. Such crimes occurred regularly, as was the state of the world, but three murders within a week in the small glen of Sleepy Hollow was unheard of.

Eris turned the missive over in his hands as the carriage rattled over uneven stones.

Three bodies. Decapitation. No blood loss. Heads not recovered.  

The decapitation did not move him, however the missing heads did. A lack of blood loss did not marry together with arterial bleeding either.

Eris Crane would solve this mystery, for all unexplained situations were merely waiting to be unravelled.

When his carriage stopped, the dark had settled into the peaceful village. A chill was in the air of Sleepy Hollow. Tendrils of mist stroked the hard earth as he pressed a coin into the hand of the driver then proceeded towards the home of the town’s lord and lady – Rhysand and Feyre Van Tassel.

A party was being had. Lights lit up all of the downstairs windows and music seeped towards him. Eris was not a man who revelled. The arts were a waste of an education. He would make his greetings then depart to his room using the excuse of a long day of travel to escape.

A circle had formed where a young woman was blindfolded. A tall, strapping male with an arrogant gloat about him held her by the shoulders to spin her five times before releasing her into the centre with a low laugh.

‘The pickety witch,’ she said. ‘The pickety witch. Who’s got a kiss for the pickety witch?’

As she spoke, she made lunges for people who dodged her with a giggle. Eris, whom the game was unknown to, remained rooted to the floor as she grasped his waistcoat.

‘Aha. Who do I have?’

Her cold, delicate hands roved over his face while the circle fell silent. Even with the blindfold on, Eris could make out the scrunch of her forehead.

A child cried, ‘A kiss! A kiss!’

‘She has to guess first,’ replies a woman, with pleated curls and dark eyes.

Reverently, the woman caresses his face one more time. It was most unusual for Eris who had not been touched with any sort of warmth since the day he entered an orphanage in the heart of the city.

‘Is it Azriel?’

Laughter ripples about the circle.

‘Pardon, ma’am. I am only a stranger,’ replied Eris.

‘Then have a kiss on account.’

She cupped his face again then tipped up onto her toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. When the woman released him, she peeled away the blindfold. She was the most beautiful woman Eris had ever seen. Her eyes swirled with a silver glow. Her fair hair reminded him of the luminescence of the moon. It was braided neatly into a coronet to highlight the elegant angles of her face. His eyes traced her skin, followed the downward curve of her neck towards-

Eris swallowed and tore his eyes away from the pale blue gown and ample chest.

She did not smile or laugh as the others did, but regarded Eris as one might an opponent.

‘I am searching for Rhysand Van Tassel.’

‘I am his wife’s sister, Nesta Van Tassel. Upon their marriage, he took our family name.’

‘Most unusual,’ Eris concluded.

‘Quite,’ she agreed.

The male who had spun Nesta stepped forwards. A hand settled on her waist. ‘And who are you, friend? We have not heard your name yet.’

‘I have not said it.’

‘You need some manners.’

Nesta removed the hand from her waist. ‘Enough, Cassian.’

She escorted him through the party-goers to her brother. Where Eris had been expecting a man of stout figure who had indulged himself through many years of gluttony, he found a slim – remarkably young – Lord of Sleepy Hollow. Dark hair was slicked back and matched the sable clothing he wore. Beside him, drinking a glass of wine and speaking to others was his wife, Eris could deduce due to the exceptional resemblance to her sister.

‘Lord and Lady Van Tassel.’

‘Even if you are selling something, you are most welcome here.’

Eris straightened his tie and stood a little taller. ‘I am constable Eris Crane sent to you from New York with the authority to investigate murder in Sleepy Hollow.’

A silence fell across the room.

‘Thank God you’re here to arrest the culprit,’ Cassian called which was met with a smattering of laughter.

‘What good will a constable do?’ Another voice asked.

‘I am quite certain this case will be unravelled,’ he replied, directing his attention to the Lord and Lady of Sleepy Hollow. ‘I daresay the day of travel has been ill and I should prefer to retire rather than enjoy the festivities.’

‘I shall see Constable Crane to his rooms,’ Nesta swiftly said, cutting in before the others.

The house had a second floor followed by a conversion of the attic into a living quarter for receiving guests. Nesta swept through the room to ensure all was up to standards whilst her lips remained pursed together. She stared from the window towards the mist-covered forests that encompassed the village, bar the single road, then promptly drew the curtains closed.

‘Miss Van Tassel,’ Eris said, halting her before her departure. ‘If I may confirm details with you: Three persons murdered. Atwell Van Garrett and his son, Tamlin Van Garrett, both of them strong, capable men. They were found together. Decapitated. A week later, the Widow Briar. Their heads were unable to be located.’

Nesta’s grey eyes sought the closed curtains again then flitted back to his, a wariness settling in. ‘Their heads were not found because their heads were taken, Mister Crane.’

‘Taken?’

‘Taken by the Headless Horseman. Taken back to Hell.’

Surely a woman of sound mind and education would not be taken in by ghost stories.

‘There is a scientific explanation for everything, Miss Van Tassel.’

Nesta squared her shoulders. ‘I assure you that in any other regard I would agree with your sentiments. But not in this. The Headless Horseman is real.’

There had been laughter when Eris had spoken of apprehending the suspect.

‘Indulge me,’ he said.

‘The Horseman was a mercenary, sent to our shores during the war. But unlike his compatriots who came for money, the Horseman came... for love of carnage... and he was not like the others...’ She shook her head. ‘His name was Jurian. He rode a giant black steed. He was infamous for taking his horse hard into battle... chopping off heads at full gallop.  To look upon him made your blood run cold, for he had filed down his teeth to sharp points to add to the ferocity of his appearance.’

She told the story in such a way that Eris could not stop himself from being lured in by her voice. It was a siren’s call. He forced his hands into his pocket to keep from reaching for her.

‘This butcher would not finally meet his end till the winter of seventy-nine not far from here in our Western Woods. He had lured a general, Clythia, into his tent and tore her to pieces. He paraded her head through an enemy encampment then they captured him. They cut off Jurian’s head with his own sword, Clythia’s sister among them. To this day, the Western Woods is still a haunted place where none will dare venture for what was planted there was a seed of evil.’ Nesta spread out her hands. ‘And so it has been for twenty years. But now Jurian wakes -- he is on the rampage, cutting off heads where he finds them.’

If it were not for the austerity in her voice, Eris might have scoffed at the tale.

‘Miss Van Tassel, you cannot believe in such stories.’

‘It is no story,’ she vowed.

Eris shook his head. ‘We have murders in New York without the benefit of ghouls and goblins.’

‘You are a long way from New York, sir,’ she said, sweeping her head into a bow.

‘I shall discover the motive of the murders, Miss Van Tassel. This mystery will not resist investigation by a rational man.’

Eris moved to lean against the table, in a display of casualness, but the table wobbled on its uneven legs. The empty glass she had placed there for him juddered onto its side and rolled off the table. He winced as it fell, but – mercifully – it did not shatter.

‘You may be as rational as you like. The Reverend Helion will even press a Bible into your hands so that God may be the salvation in this horror. I speak of what I have heard from the lips of those who have seen. Those whose word I trust.’

‘Then, pray, tell me what others have seen.’

‘Rhysand has set a watch since the first murders. Cassian circles the village night after night on duty. He saw the Horseman galloping away on the night the Widow Briar was found murdered.’

‘I had believed you to be a rational woman rather than one in league with the brute from downstairs.’

Nesta stepped back, appraising him with a scowl. ‘You cast a judgement on the first night of our meeting.’

Bashfully, Eris dipped his head. ‘Please excuse my manners. I am not used to-’

‘Female company?’

Blood burned in his cheeks. ‘Society.’

‘How can you avoid society in New York? How I should love the opera - and theatres - to go dancing... Is it wonderful?’

‘I have never been.’

‘But there is an art museum? A concert hall?’

‘I don’t know.’

She gave a disappointed sigh. ‘Then you have nothing to teach me.’

At once, Eris wanted to take back his words. Or to offer Nesta the opportunity to visit museums and concert halls where they could dance. He would learn for her.

‘Nesta, you cannot truly believe it is the Horseman.’

‘Not everyone does believe.’

‘Good,’ he replied, relief flooding him.

‘Some say it is the witch of the woods who made a pact with Lucifer.’

Eris closed his eyes as he sucked in a breath. ‘There are no witches or galloping ghosts. Is everyone in this village in thrall with superstition?’

‘Why are you so frightened of magic, Eris? Not all of it is wicked. There are ancient truths in these woods which have been forgotten in your city parks.’

‘If they are truths, they are not magic – and if magic, not truth.’

She threw up her hands, anger brimming in her gaze. ‘You are foolish. When there is fever in the house, it is well known that willow-herb roots and a crow's foot must be boiled in the milk of a pure white goat with special charms uttered over the fire then the fever abates.’

‘Next time, try the herb without the rest. And now I must ask you to leave.’

‘Gladly,’ Nesta replied. ‘I should not have interrupted our town’s saviour from his contemplation. Goodnight. And as for the brute you mentioned, he has proposed to me.’

How could it be? Although Eris did not know the pair, they were already at odds in his mind. She was fair and lovely to look upon. He was big and burly with a rough tongue and rougher hands.

‘I, I, I,’ he stuttered. ‘I am happy that…’

‘He proposed to me several times.’

She gave a faint smile after her ambiguous words then departed with a slam of the door.

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Bestie I reread you pebble alpha cowboy au thing last night and it’s plaguing my every being pls I need more if you can find it in your heart this holiday season, won’t you consider donating to wrath’s that need your help?

Oooo you just summoned my undying cowboy AU brainrot. And yes, I do want to write more about it, so, there you go, my humble offering to you. Cowboy smut coming your way, hehehehehehehe. (this got way longer than i intended, sorry for the delay)

So, alright, maybe Pebble's been staying a bit longer in town than he usually would. But the people are nice in here, really. There's Ivy, who's taken to slipping Pebble free drinks when Omega pretends not to be looking ; the big man himself, despite his intimidating stature, is actually quite sweet, gentle in a way you wouldn't expect at first glance, with a warmth to him that inevitably has people eager to come back to the saloon.

Pebble also met a ranch owner with a dazzling smile named Delta for whom he's been working for a little while now, helping with everything he can from repairing fences to taming feisty horses, glad to be needed and earn his keep. The room he's renting is pretty nice, for how little Zephyr, the inn keeper, charges him for it, definitely far from the worst place he's stayed at. And there's that cowgirl who's freaking terrifying but often quietly joins Pebble for a smoke in some back alley- somehow, she always finds him, no matter where Pebble goes. He only learns her name, Mist, after nearly a week of silently sharing joints. He's fairly sure she could break him in half. He's never met a cooler person in his entire life.

So, yeah, Pebble stays. And it has nothing to do whatsoever with the asshole of a sheriff who's apparently developped the uncanny ability to make Pebble cum faster every time they end up cramed into some dark nook with their hands down each other's pants, no sir.

Because, yes, it happens again, and again, and again. They'll have a drink or two after a long day, find an excuse to pick a fight, which will quickly turn sexual, because apparently nothing gets either of them harder than homoerotic loathing.

Sometimes, Pebble wonders how damaged he must be to get off on the threat of Alpha's teeth against his jugular.

Today, though, is different. The sky is still very much high in the sky, its rays beating down on Pebble's bare back as he splashes water on his face, taking a much-needed break from trying to get a stubborn bull to still long enough for him to check on the healing laceration wound on its flank. A prickling sensation at the back of his neck is what gets Pebble to glance up, reajusting his crooked hat, only to meet familiar hungry eyes staring right back.

It's a shock, somehow, to see Alpha in daylight, fully exposed in a way the night and its silver moon never let him be, a part of him always shrouded in shadows. Not now, though. Now, the sheriff is standing, hip cocked to rest against the fence, arms crossed in front of his chest, head tilted to the side, and Pebble can see so much details at once it almost makes him dizzy. The scar on his arm looks thicker, more gnarly, and for the first time, Pebble wonders how he got it. With the way Alpha's shirt is open, so widely he might as well have taken it off, Pebble is treated to the sight of damp skin and a smattering of hair that has him nearly drooling.

And Alpha's face...it looks as though he paused as he was shaking his hair free from his hat, like maybe he didn't see Pebble until it was too late, until he'd let his walls down enough to take an accessory usually worn like a shield off without a second thought ; now he's frozen, features weirdly open, eyebrows unfurrowed, the crease between them smoothed out, lips slightly parted, his facial scars pale against sunkissed skin.

It hits Pebble like a sack of bricks then, that Alpha isn't just hot. He's beautiful. Shit.

Thankfully, the sheriff himself looks like his brain shut down for a minute, giving Pebble time to straighten and clear his throat awkwardly.

"Fuck you're doin' here ?"

Alpha arches an eyebrow, but it feels less provocative than usual, more genuinely taken aback.

"Wanted to check on Delta."

Sure, yeah, sounds perfectly logical. The man in question took a nasty hoove to the shoulder trying to calm down a panicked horse, makes sense that Alpha, as the sheriff, would be preoccupied. Still, Pebble's never seen him at the ranch. He knew that Alpha came here from time to time - he and Delta have lived in the same city for ages, of course he does- but Pebble never crossed path with him here, in this place that he associate with honest work, tiring but gratifying, something almost soothing in the way it takes up all his focus and drives away all thoughts from his head.

Alpha looks out of place here, even though he's probably more comfortable and used to the place than Pebble is. Like his brain cannot comprehend the man he labeled as the bane of his existance and the very real menace for his stamina standing here, edges softened by the surprise, looking fine and relaxed under the blinding afternoon sun.

To Pebble, Alpha is white hot rage pulsing in his veins, adrenaline shooting through his body, bloodied teeth bared in a dangerous smile, moonlight sparsely lighting an alley, quick breathes and bitten back noises. To see him in such a drastically different scenery has Pebble reeling.

"...is that a bite mark ?"

Pebble blinks, yanked out of his thoughts by Alpha's voice. He doesn't know how to interpret that tone, but he doesn't have to follow the sheriff's gaze to know what he's talking about.

"Coyote. Nearly ripped a good chunk out of me."

While Pebble isn't exactly insecure about the huge jaw imprint on his right side, he is aware how off putting it can be. Deep, irregular lacerations, from where the beast sank its teeth while shaking its head like it was trying to pull Pebble appart - and it probably was.

Alpha wistles lowly, Pebble distantly noting that this is the first peaceful conversation they have.

"Always hell to make 'em let go."

With a shrug, Pebble absent-mindedly runs his thumb on one of the rough scars tearing through his ribs.

"Had to pry its jaw open with my own hands. Twisted its neck real quick - guess adrenaline does make you do insane things."

Something changes in Alpha stance then. He straightens, taking a deep breath, eyes roaming on Pebble with that same intensity that never fails to make him look away.

"That's so fucking hot," the sheriff grunts, not even giving Pebble time to react to the statement before he descends onto him, gripping his wrist with bruising strenght, "I need to fuck you, can I fuck you ?"

And, well. They haven't actually fucked fucked yet. Handjobs is as far as they got but somehow, now that the notion's on the table, Pebble is craving Alpha on top of him. Just like that. He feels a little light-headed, so of course he blurts the first thing that comes to his mind.

"I don't know, can you ?"

Alpha rolls his eyes hard enough it looks painful.

"Shut your damn mouth."

They end up sneaking into Delta's house, Pebble deciding he'd rather not know where Alpha learnt how to pick locks so efficiently. He'd be more reluctant if his dick wasn't currently doing all the thinking, besides Delta won't be back in a while, so really, what he doesn't know can't hurt him, right ? Pebble vows to work extra hard once he doesn't feel half blind with lust. At least Alpha has the decency to lead him toward the guest room, not Delta's, because to that, Pebble would've drawn the line. Probably. He isn't sure how much he can trust his morals in his current state.

The bed creaks loudly when Pebble's back hits the mattress, Alpha landing above him the second he's gotten rid of his shirt. It's different, there's so much more skin to touch, Pebble is obsessed, gropping greedily, mapping warm flesh, scars and patches of hair with his palms. Alpha is doing much the same, except it's his mouth travelling all over Pebble's body hungrily, tongue darting out insistently, tasting him like a man starved. Teeth nipping here and there, making Pebble flinch instinctively just to arch up into it once his stupid, lust-fried brain registers how good it feels.

Things get even more frantic once Alpha manages to get rid of Pebble's pants, belt and all. He doesn't remember kicking his boots off, but he must've, because they're nowhere to be seen. Not that Pebble manages to focus on that for long with the frenzied way Alpha grabs at every available parts of him. Like he can't help it. It's very flattering, as well as unbelievably hot. Then Alpha nuzzles the divot created by his hipbone, trailing lower until he can tear off Pebble's underwear with his teeth, want overrules any rational thoughts he might have had. The sight of the Sheriff, face pressed against the burning skin of his lower stomach, looking up with a devilish grin, makes Pebble's cock kick so hard his eyes roll back a little.

By the time Alpha is shucking the rest of his own clothes, Pebble needs him inside of him yesterday. Even more so when the sheriff unceremoniously shoves his fingers inside Pebble's mouth. He has half a mind to bite them, just to be a pain, but really, he doesn't have time for this today. So he coats Alpha's fingers in saliva, while the man does a number on his neck, no doubts leaving a ring of purple bruises all around his throat.

Prep is a quick thing though Alpha doesn't rush, stretching Pebble with ruthless efficiency, until the sheriff has him writhing and biting his tongue not to beg. Thankfully, Alpha's patience seems to be running thin, because soon enough, the head of his cock presses against Pebble's hole, eyes flying up to ensure he has the go-ahead. Pebble wraps his legs around Alpha's hips as an answer, already flushed and sweaty. With a fleeting smirk, Alpha finally, finally pushes in.

And it rocks Pebble's fucking world because god fucking dammit, when's the last time he's been with someone he wanted so much ? Not just some casual attraction, no, this fully encompassing desire that burns bright in his veins ? He can't remember. In one smooth, slow thrust, Alpha bottoms out, panting heavily in the hollow of Pebble's throat when he does so. There's a moment of stillness where they both try to adjust, where Pebble has the time to relish in how full he feels, then Alpha's rocking his hips shallowly, testing the waters.

It quickly becomes not enough, prompting Pebble to swallow several times, until he can taunt.

"That all you've got ? C'mon, fuck me like you mean it, sheriff."

Judging by the throaty groan that gets him, Pebble struck a nerve. Which is only confirmed when Alpha picks up the pace, pulling out almost all the way just to slam back in again with enough strenght to make the wooden headboard thump against the wall. It's not long before they're both drenched, skins sticky where they rub together, Alpha's grip bruising on Pebble's waist, each thrust wrangling desperate, half stiffled noises from them. A minute shift of the sheriff's stance, and Pebble has to bite his hand not to wail.

"That's the spot, uh ? Yeah, that's it, feels- mmh, good, doesn't it ?"

Alpha's voice is rough, strained, huffs and groans cutting his sentence, which is far too attractive for Pebble to handle. He doesn't answer, can't, really, especially with how obvious it is what he would say if he could. He can feel his orgasm creeping up on him, noises les and less controlled, body tensing up, when Alpha blindly reaches for his hand and guides it to his throat.

For half a second, Pebble just stays like this, blinking at the sight of his hand loosely wrapped around the sheriff's neck, until it all catches up to him and he squeezes.

Alpha makes the loveliest choked sound, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he leans even harder into the pressure of Pebble's hand, even as his face reddens and his eyes start watering.

Then the sheriff grabs Pebble's neglected cock, thumbing messily at the head, and Pebble's done for, nearly arching off the bed, vision flashing white as he blows his load with a silent shout. Very, very, distantly, he registers that Alpha's spilling mere seconds after him, loud groan echoing in the room.

Pebble would be embarrassed about the time it takes for him to come back to his senses, if Alpha wasn't in much the same state, panting by his side on the now soiled sheets. There's a few beats of blissful silence, before Pebble let out a disblieving huff.

"Holy fucking shit."

Alpha pushes himself up into a seating position, smirking in that infuriatingly smug way of his, looking far too pleased with himself. Naturally, Pebble flips him off. Naturaly, Alpha flops back down to bite at his hip bone. Hard. Bastard will probably leave a mark. But, well, Pebble barely has the energy to yelp and swat him away, so.

Thankfully, Alpha makes it his mission to find them washclothes and clean both of them with the same efficiency as usual, before changing the sheets, packing the dirty ones in order to take care of them himself. Pebble, now dressed again and relocated to a plush armchair in a corner of the room, watches Alpha mill about like he owns the place. Mind pleasantly sluggish, Pebble wonders how much time he spent at Delta's place, maybe after days helping at the ranch. Enough, at least, for him to look completely at ease there, or maybe it's just an Alpha thing, strutting around with unwavering confidence no matter the situation.

Pebble's musing is interrupted by the sheriff snapping his fingers in front of his face, having clearly made several attempts at catching his attention.

"C'mon, let's go."

Letting himself be pulled to his feet, Pebble glances around, the reality of their situation dawning on him as he limps after Alpha, cursing the flight of stairs they have to take down to get back outside.

"Delta's going to murder us."

With a dismissive shrug, Alpha waves his worries off.

"Nah. Long as he gets his sheets back pristine, it'll be fine."

"We fucked in his guest bedroom while he was away and I was supposed to be working," Pebble points out. They're at the foot of the stairs now, Alpha pausing to grin back at him.

"What, you think he a saint ? I assure you, he's done nastier stuff in riskier places."

Well, fair enough, and it's not like Pebble can take back what just happened. Not that he wants to, either. Sure, he's aching all over, and working like that is going to be a bitch, but man was it worth it.

Once out on the porch, they're both distracted enough, lighting a well-deserved post-coital smoke, that they nearly jump out of their own skin when someone clears their throat from behind them.

Wearing a grin nearly too big for his face, Delta reclines further into his rocking chair.

"Had fun ?"

The long, incriminating silence that stretches between them finally gets broken by the sudden, uncontrolable fit of laughter that shakes the three of them to the point of tears.

Pebble gets a glimpse at the hand-shaped bruise around Alpha's throat, stomach swooping.

Maybe he'll stick around a little longer.

[partially-controlled-chaos]

Hey look I’m not going apologize in advance for using the same tropes in all my works because when I find something I like I run it into the ground and nothing has stopped me yet.

I’m going to find a traumatized character. I’m going to put them in soft situations. Their beloveds hands are gonna touch their face to soothe while they sleep. An index finger will trace the outer ear and the nose. I’m going to use the word gentle waaaayyyyy too many times. And then I’m going to throw in a mild hand kink.

And I’m very absolutely not sorry about it.

[whatudottu]

Honestly Ben 10 is probably one of the most based science fiction series out there by sheer virtue of it having the balls to showcase any alien concept it wanted to no matter how ridiculous, and whenever someone is like “there’s no way in Hell that could ever be scientifically feasible”, it dared to look them in the eyes and go “Yeah, well, this is a world where magic and superpowered mutants also exist. What are you gonna do? Cry about it? You grown ass adult who’s expecting scientific feasibility out of a cartoon meant to sell toys to preteen boys that has lore so inconsistent it’s almost impossible to tell what’s canon and what’s non-canon? LMAO loser.”

I mean OS had it all- obviously aliens but not only that, at minimum 10 of them; mutants in daily life across at least America, no doubt in other places too; magic, albeit one without a system beyond ‘there’s a spellbook and some charms’. The shift to purely alien in AF makes the wonderful nonsense sci-fi stuff into frustrating logic trees of ‘how does xenobiology get this powerful’ which I had definitely fallen into. Ben 10 is unabashedly science fantasy, so why not go the full fantasy and bring back mutants and magic, haha!

Admittedly a good implementation of magic in a series tends to follow a magic system, which I’m not especially great at coming up with, especially in comparison to speculative biology which come with pre-established rules. But hey, I don’t exactly expect it to be fleshed out, at least not as well as the alien aspect of Ben 10; even then, there’s only so much fleshed out, it’s to tease us into making lore for it lmao-

To be fair though, Ben 10 itself had to whack itself on the cheek in order to be reminded of its magic and especially mutant parts, which unfortunately in the latter case was central to major retcons so…

[starleska]

just finished watching Megamind vs the Doom Syndicate and i have some thoughts!! please do take this with a grain of salt as i'm just one person; i absolutely do not want to rain on anyone's parade!! if this is your favourite movie, don't worry about the gripes of some stranger on the internet 🥰

let's start with the positive!! despite what some people are saying there are things to enjoy about the film, and i think that lies in the fun of Megamind's old crew. although Behemoth looks a little phoned-in and Pierre Pressure was an easy joke, i really enjoyed the designs for Lady Doppler and Lord Nighty-Knight. the scenes they were in with Megamind were definitely the most engaging!! but that's...about where my enjoyment of the film ends. i think the film's biggest sin is the enormous amount of exposition-dumping and telling rather than showing. there were so many times where characters just...stated things about themselves, or spoke aloud why they were feeling the way they are. they're like...character notes that a writer jots down to keep track of emotional journeys. it really breaks the immersion and makes the characters feel mechanical, clunky, and a bit of a hivemind. Megamind and Roxanne in particular feel quite stripped of their original personalities, which is such a shame. then there's drastic reduction of chemistry between Megamind and Roxanne. canonically, this movie only takes place a couple of days after the events of Megamind, but the two are barely affectionate with one another to the point that it's weird. perhaps it was written as them being comfortable with one another, but at times it almost felt like there was dislike between the two of them...especially from Roxanne's side!! Megamind is hardly recognisable compared to his lovestruck counterpart from the first movie, and Roxanne's bold, caring nature seems to have evaporated. it makes it very hard to get invested in their relationship at all 💔 speaking of Roxanne, i find it such an odd choice to make Roxanne have an existential crisis about being dissatisfied with her life just a few days after the events of the previous film...you'd think she'd want to take it easy for a while! i feel this characterisation of Roxanne does her a lot of disservice, and reduces her more to plot functionality. Roxanne doesn't strike me as the kind of woman who'd be starstruck re: some kid's online following and decide she's inadequate by comparison. again, a lot of the things we love Roxanne for were just quite...absent, from this movie. you could predict what she was going to say well ahead of time, because she was just following the beats of the plot 😓 and the time-retcon...isn't it a bit weird that Megamind is a complete Internet n00b? it's one thing for him to be a bit out-of-touch with Gen Z (as he's relatable to us neurotypicals given his alien grasp on certain concepts), but he seems completely baffled by the concept of streaming and followers at all, and this movie takes place in a post-2020 timeframe. it's odd because Megamind is already established as a tech genius in the first movie, and we know he's somewhat affiliated with Internet slang by his use of LOL : ) when texting Roxanne!! perhaps this is a small nitpick that can be explained away, but it seems like a baffling choice and an excuse to write in a trendy character for the kids to relate to 😵 then, moving onto Keiko...she wasn't terrible by any means! but i wish she was more than a social media influencer to get Megamind with the times. if she's Megamind's number 1 fan, surely she would have been his fan while he was a villain...couldn't that have made for an interesting moral dilemma along with the return of the Doom Syndicate: having a child trying to follow in his previously-villainous footsteps? what about Keiko being taken under the wing of the Doom Syndicate after Megamind became a hero? 👀 those are my thoughts for now...i do hope all those talented Megamind fans will build upon these flaws in the movie and create more compelling stories from it 🙏💖

[moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom]

I just find it mind-boggling that some people will reblog things like “Anakin didn’t care about Rex and his men, he wouldn’t listen to Fives just because he was friends with Palpatine” and then in the next post be gushing over Rexwalker/Rexanidala like???? so you agree. Anakin does care about Rex?

[bayofwolves]

rereading spirit animals and realizing that the devourer wars are so much more nuanced than i used to think

like, feliandor was definitely wrong for starting the first one in order to colonize land for his nation. but when it was over, the greencloaks -- the supposed good guys -- carried out a genocide on the people of stetriol.

and in the second one, shane had every right to feel how he felt. the greencloaks had abandoned his people to centuries of torment and i agree with him for fighting back. but once again, the conquerors' methods were inexcusable. the atrocities they committed were just as horrible as their enemies'.

but of course, even though both sides had their faults, the greencloaks were never held accountable for what they did to stetriol. they were persecuted for their involvement in the war with the wyrm, yes, but what about before that? when they wiped out a nation and continued to hide what they'd done? when they used the nectar to dominate the world, withholding its lifesaving power from anyone they deemed not worthy?

the greencloaks allowed stetriol to be forgotten, and forgotten it still seems to be.

[nerdyfangirlingbooks]

I think one thing that's getting overlooked with the whole Elon Musk Nazi salute is that it doesn't really matter whether or not he genuinely did mean it just as throwing his heart to the crowd or whatever. It's still the Nazi salute. If you draw a bunch of lines because you like drawing right angles and you accidentally draw a swastika it's still a swastika regardless of intentions

Maybe he was throwing his heart to the crowd, realised what he'd done, and then said it to make it clear and give himself plausible deniability. Maybe he chose to do the Nazi salute and then give himself an excuse for plausible deniability to see what he could get away with. Either way, the physical action is recognisably the Nazi salute

[beyond-far-horizons]

All this new Shard info is like catnip to me! We've finally, finally got all the names! We know what happened to Honor, we know how they felt about Odium...

But why didn't Honor call out to the greatest of them for help?

WHIMSEY!

[sporesgalaxy]

i shouldve played pokemon violet in spanish....

[theangrypomeranian]

did I binge watch a show today just for a wlw ship?

yes yes I did 😊